


Bride's Orders

by mermoon



Category: Saints Row
Genre: Gen, Gender-neutral pronouns for Boss, Other, a tiny au where everyone's happy and no one dies, non-specific boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-04
Packaged: 2019-05-02 07:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14539470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermoon/pseuds/mermoon
Summary: Out of all the Saints, Kinzie Kensington is the first one to marry.





	Bride's Orders

**Author's Note:**

> This is a quick piece that has been sitting in my drafts for months, and since it seems I have no further plans for it, I decided to post it. Hope you like it ♥

Out of all the Saints, Kinzie Kensington is the first one to marry. Well actually, the position for the first one to marry is a tie between her and Oleg Kirrlov. They get married in a very un-Saintly venue, with barbeque, green grass, vodka and sunlight.

Kinzie had argued that no purple will be used to decorate the wedding, but Boss was happy to see her bouquet as well as Oleg's boutonniere both had purple flowers in them. Boss themselves had broken the no-purple code as well, but as the leader of the Saints nobody dared to confront them about it.

"Boss, why haven't I seen you dancing?" Kinzie suddenly asks, butting down next to them, interrupting their beer.

"Because I don't dance?"

"It's my wedding. You have to dance. Go ask Johnny."

"Oh no. He dances even less than me."

"How many times have I saved your ass? And how often have I asked for anything in return? Besides, today is my day, and I say you have to dance."

"Ok, fine, geez," Boss says, gets up and gulps down the last of their beer. _This should be good._

Boss finds Johnny by the grill, hunched over a cooling pack of cold beer. As he notices Boss, he hands them a new bottle.

"This is my kinda wedding, you know. Beer, beef, only guns are missing… but, heh, I guess it wouldn't fit the decor", Johnny chuckles. 

"I don't know, table pieces made out of gun casings sounds pretty classy to me," Boss shrugs and takes away Johnny’s beer before he has time to uncork it. "Come on, we're dancing."

"What? I don't dance."

"Mhm, that's what I said. Bride's orders."

"Go ask Pierce or Shaundi or… I don't know, King?" Johnny grabs back his beer bottle. Boss takes it back again.

"Shut up, asshole, if I have to dance then so do you," Boss snaps, takes him by the wrist and drags him towards the other waltzers.

Johnny is nervous, that much is obvious. He loosens his collar and tie, before Boss places his hand on their hip.

"Do you know waltz?"

"I said I don't dance."

"I'm sure you know the basic steps."

"Since when do you dance voluntarily?"

"Not voluntarily, Bride's Orders. Now stop whining and dance."

They sway along the crowd, mimicking the steps and motions the other guests seem to produce naturally. Eventually even Johnny seems to get the hang of it, and they both relax a little. The distance between them lessens and Boss sneaks a peek at Johnny's facial expression. He's no longer looking down at their feet, but instead practicing the same thing Boss is - avoiding eye contact. If Boss didn't know better, they'd say the man is blushing. But they know better than to claim such things. It’s probably just the scorching sun.

Underneath the sun, a happy bride nudges her husband and gives him a knowing smirk.


End file.
